


To Build a Home

by riverwrite



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Car Accidents, F/F, F/M, Grubs, Homophobia, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi, Same-Sex Marriage, Same-Sex Parenting, adoption au, and added sadness, basically the regular story of adoption, but with homestuck characters, porn? somewhere?, tiny kankri, troll adoption, troll children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:17:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverwrite/pseuds/riverwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and John have been married for quite some time and have started talking about kids. However, when they try to adopt, they're met with homophobia and are only allowed to adopt the "ugly troll children". This is their story of how they fell in love with the trolls and adopted them, and now have to adjust everything to accustom the troll's needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Build a Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Unwanted Free Ugly Troll](https://archiveofourown.org/works/477092) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> I'm totally new to this so please be a bit kind, I'm winging it right now. But anyways, please enjoy!

Your name is Dave Strider, and you and your partner have been talking pretty heavily about kids. There is a problem though. A big one. Like, massive fucking problem. You and your partner are both male, and from what you've remembered from eighth grade basic biology, men couldn't get pregnant. That was a woman's job. Sexist phrase aside, you've been wondering how kids would even work in your batshit schedule as a dancer. Your hours are 6-10 on weekdays and 8-11 on weekends. Yeah, your partner may have worked from home, and when you're not in shows, your schedule is half what it is, but still. You wanted to be in your kid's life. Just as you were about to get to the juicy shit of finances, a hand on your knee snapped you out of your thoughts. “Dave? Are you alright?” And there it was. Those beautiful blue eyes that captivated and calmed you so quick. “Yeah, John. I'm fine.” You let a small smile slip through your cool guy facade before quickly putting on your poker face. “I know you're nervous. But it's okay, we only have a bit more paperwork to go before we can head to the attorney's office and see if she's found anyone.” You stared down at your plate filled with the most balanced breakfast you've ever seen of eggs, toast, and OJ, thinking for a minute. “Yeah. But what if she didn't find anything?” You cringed slightly as you heard your voice crack a bit, but shrugged it off quickly, maintaining your poker face. “I'm sure she has, it's been about two months since we last saw her.” John smiled comfortingly, eating the last bits of his breakfast before deeming himself finished and heading to the sink. You let yourself smile as you watched him go through his daily routine of washing and drying the dishes, getting one more cup of coffee, and then heading to the bedroom to get dressed, leaving you alone in the dining room. As you ate, you noticed the silence. Maybe it would be a good idea to get something to fill it with.

Later that same day, you let out a sigh as you flipped through pages upon pages of paperwork. You swore you hadn't had to write this much since college, and that you never would again, but yet here you were, pen in hand and 18 more pages to go out of a whopping 56. Taking off your signature aviators, you sighed as you rubbed your eyes, staring down at the page. You have been doing this for an hour and already the small 12 point font on the jarringly white paper (seriously how is paper that fucking white) was becoming a pain in the ass on your eyes. You looked in the little mirror on your desk, noticing your naturally red eyes were now bloodshot, making it look like your eyes bled. This is when you decided to grab a drink. Getting up, you headed to the kitchen for a beer, bumping into your husband on the way. “Hey, how's the paperwork going?” He asked, his own work in his hands. He was probably here for a beer too, not that he liked alcohol much, but it helps. “Ugh. I swear it's like reading fucking terms and conditions, but then having to write an essay afterwards.” He laughed, setting his work on the counter. “I feel that. Well our appointment is at four, so we have some time to get everything together.” You let yourself groan. “Joohn I don't like doing paperwork.” You whined, taking a long swig of your beer. He quirked an eyebrow at you. “What's this? Is David Strider, THE David Strider, complaining?” He mocked you tastefully, and you squinted at him. Two could definitely play that game.

After your bit of playful bantering, a couple of beers, and finally finishing your paperwork, you decide it would be a good idea to play some Smash. Slam some classic video game characters to the ground is a great way to relieve stress and anxiety. “John!” You called from the living room, controller in hand. “What?”

“John!!” An exasperated groan. You smirked slightly. You loved fucking with him, it was the absolute best. “What do you want?!” He almost-barked from the hallway. “Did you unlock Mr. Game&Watch?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. He glared at you before rolling his eyes. “Yeah. Don't use him, he sucks.” He turned to return to his office to keep working. “Love you!” You shouted, turning slightly so your voice would echo down the hallway. “Yeah, okay.” You heard the door shut and let yourself laugh quietly. Yeah, you could be mean to him sometimes, but you just loved picking on him.

Sooner than you would've expected, it was 3:30. “Oh shit!” You shouted, nearly throwing your phone down and darting upstairs to your shared bedroom. “John, we have to go! Like, right now!” You struggled with your boxers as you shoved your toothbrush in your mouth, brushing furiously. “Yeah, I know. I've been ready, I was just waiting for you.” You flipped him the bird from the bathroom, finishing your crazy routine. “Okay, coat, shirt, tie, check. Phone, check. Papers, check. Pants...FUCK.” You heard John's laughter from downstairs as you nearly tripped darting back up. Finally, after getting your pants on, you were off to go meet the attorney.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why does everything have to be so damn..clean in here?” You whispered, sitting on one of the hard-ass fancy-people couches. “I thought this was a family practice.” You adjusted your coat for what was probably the thirtieth time, checking your phone. “It is...they deal with mostly divorces.” John whispered back, clutching the files in his hands. “That doesn't sound very family to me.” He had to stifle a giggle. 4:15, a woman in a very sophisticated outfit appeared from the door. “Mr. Strider and Mr. Egbert?” You got up and straightened out your outfit, clearing your throat, watching as your husband did almost the same. “Ms. Pyrope?” You asked, holding out your hand. This was only the fourth time you had seen her, so politeness was key. “Right this way to my office please.” Her brown hair flowed as she turned, a tan hand reaching for a cane as she guided you and your very nervous husband down the hall to her office. “So, here again with the adoption crisis, I see.” She asked, feeling around for her files. You wondered how a blind woman became such a powerful lawyer, but that didn't matter right now. You silently scolded yourself for thinking off track. “Um, yes. We have all the paperwork. We were wondering if you had found anything?” John asked, his hand nearly crushing yours. “Well, I looked at a lot of places, both nationally and internationally and only found two.” Your facade fell almost instantly as you felt yourself grin as wide as humanly possible without pulling any muscles and turned to John to see him smiling as well, making you smile bigger, if that was even possible. “Well, two is fine. What are the kids like? Are they sweet? When can we meet them?” Ms. Pyrope cocked her head slightly. “Well...how would you feel about adopting non-human children?” Your happiness soon turned to confusion as both you and John looked at her, confused. “Non..human?”

“I'm sorry, but all they will let you adopt are trolls.”

This was going to be _very_ interesting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, and (constructive) criticism appreciated!


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